


In A Daze

by VolxdoSioda



Series: Kinktober 2019 [27]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Kinktober Day 27: Sex Pollen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 17:28:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21256970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VolxdoSioda/pseuds/VolxdoSioda
Summary: Noctis touches a weird-looking plant.





	In A Daze

“Hey, these flowers are kind of weird-looking, don’t you think?” 

“Highness, don’t--”

In the second he has to suck in a breath, the flowers Noctis brushes his fingers against explode in a wave of yellow pollen. Cor coughs, feeling some go down his throat, while Noctis sputters, batting the yellow off him. It only makes the spores spread, and Cor grabs hold and hauls them both out of the cloud, coughing and gasping. 

“Noctis, Marshal! Are you alright?” Down the hill Ignis, Gladio and Prompto tilt at a run, clearly ready to help, but Cor waves them off. He spits a couple more times.

“Fine. Weird exploding plant, that’s all. Noctis?”

“Fine!” Noctis gasps, “Ugh. Sticky though.”

Cor’s in a similar way, both of their clothes covered in little yellow patches that refuse to let go. “Next time, don’t touch plants you don’t recognize.”

“Sorry.” Noctis sneezes, and another tiny cloud rises off his clothes. “Ugh. Seriously though, can we bathe? I don’t--” And then abruptly he stops, a strange expression crossing over his face. Beside him, Cor locks up, as the unmistakable sensation of  _ lust  _ rolls through him, slow and insidious. 

“Ignis,” Cor says, fighting to keep his voice level. “I need you to research something for me, and then I need you to take Prompto and Gladio, and go back to the haven, and not come back out here again.”

“What? But--”

“Don’t argue. On your phone now, find  _ metafloria gloris.  _ Do it.”

He prays he’s not right. He prays that’s not the bush Noctis just made explode. 

Ignis taps the word in, and begins to read. Cor knows he’s fucked as soon as Ignis starts turning red, eyes widening. 

“Ah. Marshal?”

“Do as I said. Take Gladio and Prompto, and  _ go.” _

“But-- you’ll need supplies, and--”

“We’ll be fine. The effects will wear off before dusk. But I don’t want an audience, and I know Noctis won’t. Drop the supplies in the Armiger, find yourself some earplugs, and pretend we went for a walk. Now  _ go.”  _

They go, Gladio glancing back in confusion, Prompto in curiosity, Ignis with the kind of straight-backed intensity that speaks of embarrassment. Cor counts the seconds until they’re gone, watching Noctis out of the corner of his eye. The young man has begun to shiver, the front of his pants tenting in an obvious sign of discomfort, eyes glazed, mouth open as he pants. He looks entirely delectable, to Cor’s eyes. 

“Noctis,” he says, and the Prince’s eyes dart to him, eyes black, a mere sliver of blue remaining. “Come here.”

“Cor,” he breathes. “I  _ ache.” _

“I know. I’m going to make it better. Come here now.”

Noctis wobbles on unsteady limbs to him, all but collapsing into him when he’s close enough, whining high and needy, clawing at Cor’s coat. Cor can smell him, feel him through the clothes, and his skin burns, a familiar itch starting down between his legs and rapidly moving through him. He needs to fuck Noctis. He can’t  _ not  _ fuck him. But not in the open. They need to get the clothes off, get them at least put in water - if they carry the spores back to camp, it won’t matter what they do out here they’ll just infect the others. 

So he grips Noctis by the back of the neck with one hand, feeling the younger man cling tight and shake as they go, and once they’re close enough to the small pond, orders, “Strip.”

Noctis whines, but Cor pushes him back, even as something in him goes feral at the sight of Noctis sprawled out on the ground, legs parted. Cor rips his jacket off, and then his shirt, followed by his pants and boots. The undergarments are at least safe, but the rest he throws in the water, dunking them rapidly a few times, shaking them until every last bit of yellow is gone. It’s a fight not to go to Noctis, a fight not to just push the younger man down and fuck him raw. 

He has to keep his head. There will be time. In two or three hours and however many orgasms it takes, they’ll both be clear-headed. Noctis will probably be embarrassed. Cor has to keep his head, has to be the smarter one between the two of them. 

He throws Noctis’ clothes in the water next to his own, and gives them the same treatment, throwing them up onto the low-hanging branches of the nearby tree once the yellow is gone. Noctis is down to his boxers, a wet patch spreading as he moans, hand palming at the bulge, and Cor catches his name. 

He lets the urges play out, now that the problem of clothing has been dealt with. There’s nobody around for miles, and no natural predators out here, as far as Cor is aware. So he lets one of his hands find Noctis’ ankle, and drag him towards him, shifting himself to loom over the younger man. Lets his hands drift down smooth skin, push parted legs wider to fit himself between them, where he belongs. 

“Cor,” Noctis whispers, and there’s nothing cognizant in his eyes anymore. The effects of the pollen have hit him fully, and he won’t be sane again until it’s worn off. “Need you inside me. Please Cor.”

“I’ve got you.” Ignis evidently took his orders to heart, because he finds lube and condoms when he reaches for the armiger connection he’s made with Noctis. Noctis’ body accepts him, the pollen’s effects numbing the pain receptors in his brain, turning everything into pleasure instead. An effect meant to help spread the pollen, help encourage people to  _ breed.  _ Cor’s bigger, so it’s taking longer with him. But he can feel it encroaching on his mind. Soon it won’t cross his mind to be gentle, to not keep his voice from ringing out. 

For once, he’s grateful he’s done this song and dance before, as he lines himself up and presses inside Noctis’ body. Noctis clings to him, pushing his hips back to encourage Cor, and at last Cor sinks into that dark spot in his head where nothing matters but the rut and the mindless chase for pleasure. His body feels warm and good, and he wants that, wants to keep feeling like that. His partner embraces him, welcomes his intrusion, and so Cor lets himself go, welcomes Noctis right back. 

They take turns. Cor fucks Noctis, and Noctis fucks Cor, and then Noctis rides him, and he rides Noctis. The heat burns like wildfire, and Cor doesn’t want it to end. Doesn’t want the chase to stop. 

But eventually it does. 

The world comes back into reality, the heat dies down, the aching need abates. Noctis is covered in dirt and come beneath him, eyes blinking back into focus as his chest heaves. He wipes away a few drops that hit his face during that last rut, and slurs out, “Cor?”

“I’m here,” Cor breathes. Fuck his body was not made to do that. He feels like he’s gone ten rounds with Gilgamesh all over again. “You alright now, Highness?”

“I think my dick fell off.”

That startles a laugh out of Cor, because he can certainly relate. “A bath would probably make you feel better. C’mon, we need to get cleaned up. Ignis is probably worried.”

They stagger their way down to the water’s edge together, Cor helping to hold Noctis up as he pulls the powdered soap they’ve been using out of the Armiger and scrubs at the mess before handing it to Cor. 

Within a few moments, Cor’s feeling less like a mindless body, and more like himself. “Right. Next time, let’s avoid that plant.”

“Gladly,” Noctis vows. He’s carefully not looking Cor in the eye. The embarrassment phase has evidently hit him hard. Regis just found it amusing when they all woke up in each other’s mess. But then, he and Weskham had spent most of the time fucking Cor stupid, all those years ago. 

Their clothes are thankfully dry, and a few minutes later they’re heading back to camp. 

Ignis must have told the others what the plant did, or they were louder than they thought. Nobody’s quite looking at them, more  _ around  _ them, even as Gladio gruffly asks, “You guys okay?”

“We’re fine,” Noctis gets out. “I’m-- gonna go to bed. Night.”

“Yeah, uh night,” Prompto says, face pink. Ignis says nothing, intensely focused on the food he’s preparing, and Gladio’s hastily buried himself back in his book.

Cor shakes his head. “Regis is probably laughing himself stupid right now,” he mutters, peering up at the sky. “Aren’t you, Majesty?”

There’s no answer, but Cor doesn’t doubt both Regis and Clarus are probably laughing at him, wherever they are.


End file.
